Next Thought
by Sunburned-Stickperson
Summary: "There are some things computers can't do, Rebecca, like love." Or something like that, Desmond remembered, wishing Shaun would show him what he meant.


He wasn't quite sure what to think of the statement.

"There are lots of things computers can't do. Like love, Rebecca, like love."

Or something similar to that. He had seen Shaun's and Rebecca's sleeping bags closer together than his and Lucy's. He noticed that they liked sharing music together. He knew that they had gone out for drinks together. He thought that they made a cute couple.

And that was what hurt the most.

He sat, perched on a box that shouldn't be holding his weight, in all honesty, watching as Shaun and Rebecca shared their headphones.

"Desmond? Taking a break?"

He turned to see Lucy walking to him, and he smiled. "Unless it's a bad time?"

She laughed. "It's always a bad time. But, don't worry: it's okay."

His smile faltered as he looked back at Shaun, who was talking in low tones with Rebecca. Rebecca looked over at him, and he smiled in their direction. He wanted to be the one with Shaun. Truth be told, he wasn't sure if it was him or Ezio who made him lean that way, but he knew that he wanted to be the one with Shaun.

He walked into the small kitchen with Lucy. She was mixing up some hot chocolate, and he did his best to ignore the people walking through the walls as he perched on the table. He just couldn't sit naturally any more. Ezio and Altair had rubbed off on him too much.

"You really shouldn't put your feet on the table, Desmond."

"Huh? Sorry, but this is the better spot. A chair doesn't cut it."

Lucy raised an eyebrow, shaking her head with a soft smile. "You know, I've noticed you seem to be staring at Shaun an awful lot."

"I didn't think he would date Rebecca."

"He's not."

"How do you know?"

"Because I am."

Desmond blinked, then blinked again. "Huh?"

"I'm dating Rebecca."

Desmond blinked. "So, I've been wasting my time?"

Lucy nodded, laughing quietly. "Yeah."

Well, that cleared up Shaun.

"So then…"

"Yes, they try to put gays together and straights together. It's not like we get the chance to go out much, and instead of risking our operation by having one-night stands with people from bars, they try to give us teams we're compatible with."

"So then, Shaun's gay?"

"Yes."

"Why was I put on this team, then?"

Lucy was silent for a moment. "Well, you're the exception. We were the closest team available."

Desmond nodded. "Is there a bisexual team?"

"Undoubtedly."

Desmond was quiet for several minutes before speaking. "You know, both my ancestors were bisexual."

"I remember, yes, but we can't exactly—"

"Is it wrong if I think I may be, too?"

He watched Lucy purse her lips. "Well, no, but…"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Shaun's the only one here who's open."

Desmond shrugged. "I don't mind. I was just curious if you thought it was the Bleeding Effect."

Shaun came strolling in, hands in his pockets as Lucy handed Desmond a mug of hot chocolate.

"Perched like a bloody bird."

Desmond stuck his tongue out.

"Watch it, mate. One of these days, someone's going to grab that tongue of yours."

Desmond grinned. "Bet you'd like to, wouldn't you?"

Shaun smirked, but said nothing as he poured himself some of the hot chocolate's water for tea. Lucy smiled as she sat down next to Desmond, who was sipping from the cup. He was perched on his toes at the edge of the table. They were in Monteriggioni, sure, and that was making the Bleeding Effect worse, but when he sat there with a cup of cocoa in his hands, Ezio's commentary about how incredible milk chocolate was helped him stay grounded. Altair's quiet murmurs about the old GameBoy Color Shaun had bought made him realize he was fortunate to live in the twenty-first century.

His eyes fluttered closed as he sipped from the mug, enjoying the taste. He heard Lucy leave as Shaun sat on his other side. The hot chocolate was an enjoyable mix, and he could hear the little pot boiling on the little burner, and the powder mixes sitting silently beside it. He could hear Altair's voice murmuring in the back of his head, and he had to admit as frightening as oldest assassin was, he loved listening to him talk, and he could only wish Malik was there to talk back to him.

Sure, Ezio's voice was nice, but after listening to his voice all the time in the Animus, he found the older assassin's voice much more pleasing to his ear. Altair would tell him stories of after his ancestor had been conceived. He would tell him about fights and everything that went wrong.

Sometimes, he mused, he would have conversations with Sixteen. Sixteen helped him stay grounded the most. He found that if he plugged into the Animus and forced his mind to go blank, he could disconnect from reality enough that his vital signs would almost flat line, and he would appear in the black room, Sixteen in his fuzzy image in front of him, and he would pull his knees up to his chest, and the fuzzy image would wrap his arms around him, and they would stutter through a conversation. He loved Sixteen: he loved talking to him: he loved everything about him. Sixteen would twitter and twitch his way through the memories, and he would comfort Desmond.

He lifted the cup to his lips, sighing softly at the feel of the chocolate running down his throat. It was wonderful. He jumped when he felt someone kiss his cheek. His eyes flew open, and he saw Shaun straighten, a mischievous aura about him.

"There are lots of things a computer can't do," Desmond said, grinning.

"Like love, Desmond, like love."

"Is that so?" he said as he set his mug down, mostly empty except for the final dregs of half-dry chocolate powder.

"Yes, you ignorant tit."

He grabbed Shaun's shirt and tugged him forward. He leaned up and kissed him softly. The man's lips tasted faintly of his tea.

"And I can show you what computers can't," Shaun murmured.

"I'll look forward to it." Desmond grinned before kissing him again.


End file.
